


A Frozen Heart

by rumplestiltskinsbulge



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumplestiltskinsbulge/pseuds/rumplestiltskinsbulge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has strange and uncontrollable powers, and her father calls on Rumplestitlskin to teach her some control before her wedding to Gaston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Frozen Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired and based on Disney’s Frozen. Hope you like it! <3 You can find this and other fics rebloggable at grumplegold.tumblr.com

There was a prophecy that stated there would come to Avonlea a powerful and cursed leader that would freeze the great kingdom and everyone in it for one hundred years. For thousands of years the people waited, and when that leader never came, they grew complacent. That was, until the Princess was born. When her father learned of her fearsome power, he decreed that the castle was to be sealed off. The little girl was 9 years old.

Belle’s father hid the truth of her powers from the kingdom and the world, only the small amount of staff they kept knowing the reason the gates were closed. He told his daughter of the prophecy, saying that she needn’t be the ruler the prophecy spoke of just so long as she didn’t use her powers and hid them from their people. Frightened of hurting her people, Belle occupied her time with her only friends: her books.

Unfortunately she couldn’t hide forever. In her fear and ignorance her powers only grew stronger and more unpredictable. As the years passed and her powers grew, Maurice’s health began to fail. An arrangement needed to be made to ensure the safety of his kingdom and his daughter. 

Gaston was shaping up to be a knight nobler than any the kingdom had ever seen, and his father had been Maurice’s right hand. Therefore it was only a matter of time before a match was formed. He became her personal guard and before long Belle felt as though she was living in her own personal romance story.

Of course, to marry his daughter without inviting the royalty of the surrounding kingdoms would surely mean broken treaties and waged wars. Unless Maurice wanted to open his kingdom up to attack, he had no choice but to open the gates and expose the world to his daughter for one single day.

Desperate for things to go smoothly, Maurice called upon an ancient sorcerer to teach his daughter the skills necessary to control the powers that had made him shut her away to begin with. However, his offer of gold seemed to bore the Dark One. “No, you see-- I make gold.” The scaled imp’s amber eyes flashed mischievously. “I’ll need a bit more than that.” 

“What do you want?” Maurice snapped. The Dark One seemed to take a moment to think it over.

“How about this: I’ll teach your precious little princess to control her powers,” he emphasized the words swaying to and fro with a sing-songy voice. “And in return, you’ll owe me a favor to be named at a later date.” These were Rumplestitlskin’s favorite deals. Any time he could trick some desperate soul into giving him a promise of a favor it filled him with a dark satisfaction. He would be entitled to anything.

“Fine, fine.” The portly king waved off the thought in mere seconds. It seemed he was not only desperate, but stupid. A high pitched giggle escaped the imp, fingers twitching in excitement. 

“It’s a deal, then.” Conjuring a quill and contract he smirked and watched the man signed it. “I shall begin my work upon the morn.” He bowed with a mocking flourish before disappearing in a purple haze.

\----

Belle wasn’t used to visitors. She’d dressed in a simple yet elegant purple gown, only her mother’s necklace adorning her neck. She couldn’t sit still, she’d been told to wait in the council room for her teacher and she was less than patient. He was supposed to be there any minute. What if he was mean? What if he found her ignorant? What if she was unteachable, her powers too chaotic? “You can do this,” she whispered to herself, pacing. “Stay positive.” 

“Talking to yourself, dearie?” The man hadn’t been there before, Belle was certain of it. She jumped at the sound of his voice, and the Dark One giggled gleefully. “I do hope your years of solitude haven’t driven you mad.”

“Well, who else do I have to talk to?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. That seemed to amuse him. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir--”

“Rumplestiltskin,” he introduced himself with a bow. “Though I am not a sir, only a humble sorcerer.” Taking long strides, Rumplestiltskin walked around her, reptilian eyes exploring her form. “And now, your teacher. Tell me, Belle, what are these powers I keep hearing of?”

She was a little thing, and the Dark One found it hard to believe she could be the terrible threat that her father seemed to think she was. However, Rumplestiltskin knew full well that looks could be quite deceiving. He watched as the young woman seemed to shrink away from the idea of even speaking of her powers. “Come now,” he gestured for her to be more forthcoming. “I can’t teach you if I don’t know what you need to learn.”

Belle swallowed hard, bringing her hands together in front of her nervously. “Well I--I can freeze things,” she told him sheepishly. “And make it snow, or even hail, on occasion.”

Rumplestiltskin began to walk about the council room, and Belle got the impression that he didn’t like to sit still. “Show me,” he commanded.

“But I can’t,” the girl insisted. “I can’t control it- it just happens.”

“If it just happens then you can make it happen,” he told her. “You have the power, now use it.”

“But I--”

“Am I wasting my time, dearie?” He snapped, turning on a heel to stare at her, amber eyes wide and intense. “If you can’t follow my most basic of instructions, then I certainly must be.”

Belle felt her heart drop into her stomach as a moment of silence passed between them. “No,” she said softly, bowing her head.

“Then show me.” He stepped towards her, eyes unblinking.

With a sigh, Belle bit her bottom lip. A few times she’d experimented, trying to teach herself to control it. Each time had ended in failure and a room that took days to thaw. This time would be different, she told herself. This time she had the Dark One to stop her if anything went wrong.

She could feel the room grow cold around them and below her feet, the floor began to turn into ice. Rumplestiltskin watched with nothing more than a calculated curiosity. Belle’s hands tightened their grip on one another as the ice branched out, reaching his feet and moving towards the walls.

She wanted to stop. If she didn’t, she would freeze the whole room. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to stop. But, although she couldn’t see, she just knew that, if anything, the ice was spreading faster. Belle trembled as fear took hold of her. She was failing again. She was losing control.

“Relax, dearie.” When had he gotten so close? “Fear will only make it worse.” He sounded so calm, and Belle could feel his clawed hands on her shoulders, pushing them into a more relaxed state. “Take a breath,” he instructed, and Belle did as she was told. “Good girl. Now, open your eyes.”

She’d been so concentrated on listening to her new teacher that she hadn’t noticed how the room had grown a tad less chilled. When she opened her eyes, she could see the ice starting to retreat. Soon, it was gone.

“Well, this will certainly be fun!” Rumplestiltskin seemed excited by her utter lack of control.

\----

In their first lesson, Rumplestiltskin explained to her that magic was run by emotions, particularly strong ones. “When you lose control, your fear only makes it that much harder to regain your hold. So, tell me: what is it you fear?” He had a feeling he already knew, but he wanted to see if she would admit it even to herself.

“I suppose I’m afraid of losing control,” Belle told him, sitting down at the council table.

“Wrong,” he said, wandering to her father’s ornate chair and making himself comfortable. “Try again.”

Belle faltered, trying to think. “I’m afraid of hurting someone…” she admitted.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong!” he sneered. “Stop telling half truths! You won’t get anywhere if you don’t get to the heart of the issue.”

Belle was getting tired of these games he seemed to be playing with her. He acted as though he already knew all the answers, so why did he even ask? “What do you want me to say?” she demanded angrily. “That I’m afraid of disappointing my father? That I’m afraid that Gaston will stop loving me if I can’t do this? That I-I’m afraid that--” she stopped, looking down at her hands on the table, which was slowly becoming ice. She withdrew her hands quickly.

“Go on,” the Dark One urged.

“I’m afraid that I’m the prophecy,” she whispered, tears in her blue eyes.

“And as long as you hold on to that fear, your chances of becoming the prophecy increase greatly.” For the first time since their lesson started, Rumplestiltskin sounded almost human.

Belle stared up at him for a moment, eyes glistening in the light streaming in from the windows. She was about to plead, beg him to help her make certain she wouldn’t become the leader who freezes the kingdom, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the doors opened and her fiancé walked into the room. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Of course you are.” The Dark One stood calmly, though Belle could tell the interruption annoyed him. “But it’s all for the best, I suppose.” Belle stood as he approached her. “Think of what I told you, dearie. We’ll start the real work tomorrow, your highness.” And in a puff of purple smoke, he was gone.

\----

With the wedding in only a month’s time, Belle dedicated a lot of her days to her lessons with Rumplestiltskin. In fact, after the first day she spent most of her time with him in the mostly unused ballroom. They started with simple things, such as making it start and stop snowing, and freezing only specific things.

After a week of the same exercises over and over, Rumplestiltskin could tell that his pupil was only discouraged. He clearly needed to try a new tactic. “Stop, stop, stop!” he snapped, as she once again failed to freeze only one of the cups on the table. At least now she could stop before she froze the entire room, which was a step in the right direction.

“I’m sorry!” she snapped back. “But you keep making me do this over and over, and clearly I’m getting worse!”

He could hear stress in voice, making it shake and he sighed. “Make it snow,” he told her. When she gave him an odd look he waved his hands around. “Well, you can manage that can’t you?”

Belle rolled her eyes and made snow began to fall from the ceiling. She kept it up until he finally told her to stop. When he did, the floor was covered in several inches of snow. “Good. Now: make a snowman.” Rumplestiltskin had to force himself not to smirk at the dumbfounded look on her face.

“I’m sorry-- what?” she asked, wanting to be certain she’d heard him right.

“You heard me,” he said, raising his brows expectantly. She simply stood there for a moment. “I’m waiting.” He gestured to the snow around them.

Belle wasn’t certain where he was going with this. Still, she knelt down to gather snow into a ball. “With your magic, dearie!” he cried in a sing-songy voice. Belle let out a nervous chuckle.

“Oh-- right.” She blushed, feeling silly for not having realized that sooner. She bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out how to do it.

“Relax,” Rumplestiltskin told her. “Have fun with it.” It wasn’t often that the Dark One encouraged or engaged in fun, but the princess needed it. She was getting worse the more stressed she became.

Have fun with it? Belle thought about building a snowman as a little girl before the gates closed. She smiled, sweeping her hands up. As she moved, the snow moved, taking the form of a snowman after a moment. When it had been built, she giggled softly. “I did it!” she gushed. 

“You did it perfectly,” he nodded, smiling a bit at the way her blue eyes lit up in excitement. Her cheeks were rosy, and he couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. “Now, he’s missing something,” he said thoughtfully. With a wave of his hand, some coal appeared on the table. “Perhaps a face and some buttons?”

Belle nodded, smile widening. She was starting to have fun, and it was showing. Rumplestiltskin handed the coal to Belle, letting her place them to make the snowman’s face and buttons. “It needs a carrot,” she told him, turning and smiling at him.

“A carrot?” he asked, blinking.

“For the nose...” she reminded him, amused.

“Ah-- yes, quite right,” he said, conjuring one for her. “Is this big enough, dearie?” She chuckled and took it from him with a nod.

“It’s perfect,” she told him, shoving it into the middle of his face. “I think I’m going to name him-- Olaf.”

“Olaf?” Rumplestiltskin asked, bemused. “What a ridiculous name.” 

Belle made an offended sound. “I happen to think it’s cute,” she said. Rumplestiltskin turned to walk away from the snowman towards the table, telling her that names hold power, and that if Olaf was real he would certainly be looney, when he felt a snowball land on the back of his head. Silence filled the hall as he slowly turned to face her, stony faced. Belle pointed to Olaf, biting back laughter as he stared at her, clearly not believing that the snowman had thrown the ball of snow at him. 

“What was that?” he asked.

“That-- was a snowball.” She giggled. “I used my magic,” she offered, as though that would make it better. A smile made his lips twitch upward. 

“Seems you’re learning control. Though now, I may regret teaching it to you...” he teased.

Belle’s smile was small and truly happy. “I did control them, didn’t I?” she asked, hardly believing it.

“Yes, you did,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s see what else you can do.” Rumplestiltskin rose his hand and a few snowballs rose up from the snow. There was a mischievous smirk and glint in his reptilian eyes that made Belle’s eyes widen a bit.

She raised up a small wall of ice in just enough time to avoid getting hit by the snowballs he'd made. She shot a few his way, which he avoided with ease. She moved to toss a few more, but he was gone. “You’ll have to be quicker than that, dearie,” he said with a smirk. 

Belle turned towards his voice, only to be met in the face with a fluffy white snowball. She squealed in surprise, but laughed all the same. She moved towards him, and as she did she slipped. Rumplestiltskin reached out to catch her, resulting in the both of them falling into the snow with a dull thud and a puff of snow.

Belle’s giggles echoed in the room, and soon Rumplestiltskin couldn’t help but join her with his own, low chuckle. “See? You can do it,” he told her, helping her sit upright. “You just have to remember to keep calm.”

“Easier said than done.” She sighed, situating her skirts. They were sitting in the snow, but it didn’t bother Belle, and if it bothered her companion any, he didn’t show it. “The only person who doesn’t walk on eggshells around me is Gaston.” 

Ah, her handsome young prince. Rumplestiltskin had ordered him to wait outside during her lessons, after he’d more than once questioned his teachings. The princess couldn’t have any distractions as he taught her. Also, Rumplestiltskin was filled with loathing every time he saw the young knight. “Gaston-- that’s your knight in shining armor, is it not?”

Belle could tell he was mocking them and she gave him a dour look. “He’s my fiancé,” she reminded him. “And he loves me.”

“Oh, does he?” Rumplestiltskin rose his eye brows. He didn’t want to ruin her idea of her grand romance, and neither was it his place. Still, he knew full well that her knight was far more interested in himself than in her. What doting fiancé and loyal guard would agree so easily to leave her alone in the hands of a monster?

“Yes, he does,” she said, defiant in the face of his doubt, her chin held high. “And I love him.”

“So you’re excited for your wedding day?”

Belle nodded with a bit of a smile. “I am. Not only do I get to marry the love of my life, but the gates will finally open!”

Rumplestiltskin frowned slightly. “Only for one day, though. That’s what your father said.” Belle’s blush and the way she refused to make eye contact told Rumple that she was up to something. “Dearie…”

“Not if I can control it,” she said softly. “If I can prove that I have control, surely my papa won’t keep me locked away.” She bit her bottom lip, a habit that the imp found increasingly more and more adorable every time she did it.

“You’re putting too much stress on yourself to get this all 100 percent right,” he told her. 

“I don’t want them to close the gates,” Belle said sadly, idly swirling the snow beside her and making designs in the ice. “I hate it. It’s so lonely, even with Gaston.”

Rumplestiltskin wasn’t quite certain why he cared that the young princess was unhappy. Perhaps it was because he recognized the look in her eyes. He recognized the loneliness. As much as Rumplestiltskin hated to admit it, he’d been growing lonelier and lonelier throughout the years. Better lonely than broken hearted. Hadn’t Cora taught him as much?

And yet, as the spinner watched this sad and lonely girl play with her powers, he wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and save her from her solitude. What an old fool, he thought sullenly. As if you could make her happy. A sweet, gentle young soul like hers would despise you. No, if he couldn’t keep Cora (whom had been so like him) happy, then what made him think he could keep Belle happy?

Still, he didn’t need love. Only company.

“Come now, it isn’t all that bad.” He stood, walking over to the snowman she’d so foolishly named Olaf. “I’ve done it for hundreds of years and I turned out alright,” he quipped, giggling quite madly. He repressed a wince, thinking she would certainly find him odious.

Instead, to his surprise, she looked up at him and giggled as well, though with a much sweeter sound. “It’s not so bad sometimes,” she conceded. “When I read my books, I can almost forget.”

Rumple nodded in understanding. “I spin straw into gold for the same reason.”

Belle stood and joined him, wiping off the dustings of snow stuck to her skirts. “So it isn’t for the riches?” she teased, coming to stand in front of him.

“It doesn’t hurt to have gold either, no,” he admitted. “Now, enough chatter-- freeze the middle cup.”

Belle turned her back on him to face the table from earlier. On it, the cups appeared to have been untouched by the snow. Taking a deep breath, she shot out ice as she had to avoid her teacher’s snowballs earlier. She concentrated on just the middle cup, watching as ice spread over it. Now she just had to stop it before the ice spread past only the cup. For a moment she thought it wouldn’t stop, but taking another breath, she imagined the ice covering only the cup. And it stopped.

“I did it!” Belle squealed and laughed as she moved forward and hugged her teacher. The imp stood still as though he, too, were frozen.

Before he could reply, the doors swung open and King Maurice himself swept into the room, closely followed by Gaston. "What's going on here?" Belle stepped away from Rumplestiltskin as her father glowered at him. "What is this?" He gestured to the snowman. 

"I do believe your daughter's named him Olaf." Rumplestiltskin's demeanor was calm in the face of Maurice's growing anger.

“You are supposed to be teaching her control.” The King stepped angrily towards him as Gaston’s long strides put him next to Belle in no time. “If I’d wanted to give her someone to play with, I would have hired a new maid!”

Anger lit up in Rumple’s amber eyes, though his voice remained calm. “She needed to relax,” he told them. “Her stress was getting in the way.”

“I expect you to push her through it,” Maurice growled. “Life won’t be all fun and games! She needs to know how to control it during times of stress.”

“Tell me, dearie.” He turned to Belle. “Do you object to my style of teaching?”

“Papa,” Belle took a step towards her father. “It helped, it really did! I did things I didn’t even know I could do.”

Maurice held up a hand to silence her. “Your lesson is done for the day. Gaston, accompany my daughter to dinner and then see that she’s off to bed.” Gaston nodded curtly, taking Belle’s arm possessively and leading her out of the room. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” she managed to call before the door shut. “Thank you…”

\----

“I don’t see why you stick up for that monster.” Gaston had been complaining that her lessons had been taking up all of her time. He’d mentioned yet again how he didn’t trust him and his lax teaching, and Belle had defended him.

“He isn’t a monster.” She frowned. “He can be difficult and sometimes harsh, but if you treat him kindly, you’ll see he can be kind and caring as well.” Their short snowball fight and brief conversation after had shown her that much.

Gaston guffawed at her reply. “You can’t be serious. Belle, he’s called the Dark One for a reason.” He shook his head as Belle sighed.

“I know, but you don’t truly know someone until--”

“Belle, please don’t tell me you’re actually trying to get to know him,” Gaston said. “He’s your teacher, not your friend. No, Belle, I don’t want to hear it! I won’t have my future wife befriending such a beast.”

He sounded so much like her father. Belle put the fork down. “I’m fairly certain I can decide who my friends are without your help.” She stood and placed her cloth napkin on the table. "I think I'm going to go and read for a bit before bed. I find I've lost my appetite."

"Belle." Gaston rose and followed her to the door of the dining hall, grabbing her arm gently to stop her. "You know I only do this because I worry about you, right?" His smile was handsome and gentle. 

Belle felt bad for snapping at him. He only did what he felt was best for her. "I know," she agreed with a nod. "I just-- I wish you could see what I see. I wish you would give him a chance."

“Oh Belle, you always see the best in everyone around you.” Gaston’s smile seemed almost affectionate. “Are we okay now?” Belle nodded. It was hard to stay angry with Gaston. “Good. I trust you can make it to bed alright?” Belle nodded again.

“I love you,” she said, looking up at him hopefully. She told him everyday, and she hoped that today, he would finally say it back.

“Goodnight, Belle.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. 

Belle suppressed a sigh. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her finacé never was good with words. He was a man of action, and she didn’t need him to tell her he loved her when she could see it in the way he protected and looked after her. “Goodnight, Gaston.”

\----

As the weeks went by, Belle and Rumplestiltskin talked more about personal things. He learned that she got her necklace from her mother, who had died birthing her; that her favorite books were adventure stories, and that her favorite food was strawberries. She learned that he’d once had a family (though that was the most detail he’d go into) and that he’d been raised by spinsters who had taught him to spin. Though Belle was much more forthcoming with details of her life, she didn’t mind that he wanted to keep some things to himself.

They grew to be almost friends, or at least Belle hoped they were. And their lessons seemed to be going well, too. It wasn’t easy, but it was satisfying every time she learned a new trick. She wouldn’t say her fear was completely gone, but she was certainly not afraid of her powers anymore. 

The two sat in the middle of the empty ballroom on a blanket, taking a bit of a break for lunch. It was only a week until her wedding, and Belle had been uncharacteristically quiet and concentrated. “Is something bothering you, dearie?” Rumplestiltskin wasn’t certain why he cared so much about how the young woman was feeling, but he did nonetheless. He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that it was the same reason he felt a cold rage fill him when he saw her knight and her together and a numb sadness when she spoke of her upcoming nuptials. 

Despite his attempts to distance himself, she kept pulling him in, and like it or not, he’d started to grow attached to her. Briefly, the imp had considered taking her as his price, but when he imagined her despair at being taken from her fiancé, the twisted jollity he’d felt dissipated. He would be saddened to leave her, but it had to be done- if not for his own good, then for hers.

“I overheard some of the staff whispering,” she admitted freely. He’d become a sort of confidante for Belle, something she hadn’t realized she’d sorely needed. “They fear the wedding. They truly believe I can and will freeze the entire kingdom.” She worried her bottom lip, rolling the blueberry she held between her delicate fingers.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he told her, eating a few berries. “They’re fools.”

“Do-- do you think I’m the prophecy?” she asked softly, looking up at him.

What could he say? He knew that if she was, there was nothing she could do that would stop it, and his own powers of foresight told him that she was an important part of Avonlea’s future (though, how important, he wasn’t certain). The chances of her being the prophecy were unfortunately high. Higher than he wanted, but not 100 percent. “That is up to you, dearie.”

That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She looked down, crestfallen, at the berry again, her auburn curls veiling her face from his view. Rumplestiltskin reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing gently down the length of her hair. “You can do this, Belle,” he told her in a soft tone. “I believe in you, but my belief isn’t enough. You have to believe in yourself.”

“You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?” Her blue eyes met his, unshed tears pooled in them. Rumplestiltskin hesitated. “Please-- I don’t think I can do this without you.”

How could he say no when she was pleading with him like that? He could feel himself getting lost in her eyes, blue as the ice crystals she created. “If you wish for me to attend, I will be there.” He smoothed down her curls, an almost affectionate gesture, surprising for the usually sardonic man.

“Promise?” she asked, leaning closer to him.

Rumplestiltskin's breath left him. She was so beautiful and warm. He could smell the sweet scent of roses and vanilla that surrounded her. “I promise,” he whispered. For a moment, Rumplestiltskin thought they might kiss. He certainly wanted to kiss her. But as suddenly as the moment had come, it was gone.

Belle pulled away from him, a blush on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said, popping the blueberry in her mouth.

\----

It was the day before her wedding and Belle’s day was a flurry of wedding preparations. Final dress fittings and hair planning, talks of floral arrangements and music, guest lists and food. Belle was excited and bubbly, feeling truly optimistic. She would have her last lesson before the wedding, and she felt like so long as her teacher was there to give her courage, everything would go smoothly.

“There you are, Belle.” Gaston’s smile made her heart flutter in her chest and she practically ran into his arms, giggling. 

“Tomorrow’s the day!” She breathed out. “I just have one last lesson with Rumplestiltskin, and then maybe we could take a walk in the garden before supper?”

“Actually, I came to tell you that Rumplestiltskin has canceled your lesson,” he told her.

Belle blinked, brows drawing in in confusion. “He seemed adamant on a lesson,” she told Gaston, arms around his neck. “He told me that wedding stuff could take a break until we’d finished...”

The tall man shrugged, uncaring. “He must have changed his mind. It’s all for the best, though. After today, we’d have no use for him.” Belle disagreed. She’d actually hoped to still see him, even after the wedding. When she told Gaston as much, his eyes narrowed. “We talked about this, Belle. You’ll have nothing to do with the monster any more.”

“Don’t you think that should be something I decide?” Belle asked, pouting. 

“Absolutely not. As my wife, your duty will be to obey me.” Belle looked slightly taken aback by his choleric tone. This was a side of Gaston she’d not yet seen.

“I’ll be your wife, Gaston, not your lackey,” Belle told him.

“You will obey me, Belle.” His voice was stern and his eyes were hard. “Honestly, what did you expect?”

“Well I-- I’d hoped that things would be different when we married. I’d thought you’d be kinder and more understanding than my father. That you wouldn’t--” she shrugged. “That you wouldn’t keep me locked up as he had.”

Gaston laughed darkly, and Belle felt as though he’d struck her. “You didn’t really think I would let you run about the town, did you? Oh no-- when the wedding is over, if I have my way, you won’t even be allowed out in the garden.”

“W-why are you talking like this?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes and her throat tightening. How could he have changed so drastically?

“Because this is who I am, Belle. I tire of being the sweet and doting fiancé you expect me to be. It was fine before, when I knew that honeyed words were all I would need to secure your obedience.” He stepped out of her arms and Belle let them fall despondently to her side. “But ever since you started spending time with that beast, you’ve grown argumentative, and now you’ve deluded yourself into thinking I’ll let you out of this castle.”

Belle wasn’t certain what he was saying. She was having trouble letting the words sink in. “But-- I can control my powers now...” she whispered desperately. “If you love me--”

“I don’t.” The quick and cold way he said it shattered Belle’s heart instantly. “I don’t love you, and I never have. You truly think I could love someone with such monstrous powers? It’s no wonder you were drawn to the Dark One. I told your father he should have married you off in private and taken his chances with the other kingdoms, but of course the old fool wouldn’t listen.”

As numbness grew in her heart, the room began to grow cold, ice frosting the edge of the windows. “Oh, stop it,” Gaston snapped. “This right here is why you have to be kept away from the world. Now stop, or it won’t just be the castle you’re confined to when we marry.” 

Belle closed her eyes tightly, tears falling from her eyes. She thought of Rumplestiltskin standing behind her, hands on her arms. Relax… Somehow Belle managed to stop the freezing that had started in the wake of her heart break. Still, she trembled and cried silently.

“Pull yourself together and join your father and I for dinner.” And with that, the man she loved left the room, not caring at all that she felt as though she was dying.

\----

Supper was a quiet and numbing event as she tried to show fake cheer. Her father didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. As Gaston kissed her on the forehead with his usual, warm goodnight, Belle felt as though she was about to lose the little food she’d managed to force into her body.

The next morning seemed to fly by as Belle simply allowed herself to be pulled around and dressed like a doll. She stood by the window and watched as the lords and ladies came in and out of the castle gates, laughing and talking, excited to see the mysterious Princess of Avonlea. This wasn’t her special day anymore, it was her father’s and Gaston’s and her people’s. She found no joy in the idea of her impending marriage. The only thought that kept her going was that she would see Rumplestiltskin again. He was the only one left who cared for her, the only one who believed in her the way she couldn’t. He would get her through the day and then-- well, one thing at a time.

When the time finally came for her to make the trip down the aisle, Belle’s eyes searched the crowd. Where was he? Rumplestiltskin was no where to be seen. “Papa-- is Rumplestiltskin here?” she asked softly as they awaited their cue.

“No dear.” Her father hadn’t been pleased she’d invited him, but had agreed to it eventually. “He said he’d taught you all he could, and that he didn’t want to get stuck here if you turned out to be the prophecy.”

For a second time Belle felt her heart shatter. If she’d not cried away all of her tears hours before, she was certain she would have sobbed. The cue came and as Belle walked down the aisle, she felt as if she were merely a shell of herself. Coldness gripped her heart, and though the room began to chill, she hardly noticed.

When she came to Gaston, he took her arm with a fake smile. “Look happy,” he whispered, tightening his grip. She did nothing, feeling like nothing else could be taken from her that wasn’t already gone.

The priest went on and on about love and marriage, and Belle stood, unhearing. Even Rumplestiltskin thought it would be her. But not if she left. If she ran now, she could seclude herself. If she wasn’t there, then surely she could escape the curse and the prophecy. Gaston’s grip digging into her arm brought her out of her thoughts. She realized it was her turn to say her vows. A moment of deafening silence passed.

“I can’t do this.” A murmur of confusion moved through the crowd. Belle pulled away from Gaston, but his grip only tightened, hurting her. “Let me go.”

“You aren’t leaving,” he growled lowly. Belle had had enough.

“Let me go!” she cried, and as she pulled away a burst of ice and snow propelled him back into a wall. The lords and ladies gasped, and Belle stared down at her hands. She felt it now-- her powers strong and wild. She was losing control. “No,” she whispered. “No, not now…”

Quickly, Belle ran down the aisle and out of the door. She got to the large fountain in the middle of the town square and stopped in horror. Around her, the town and the crowd that had gathered to see her and her new husband emerge were completely frozen. “Gods, no…” She felt sickened with the realization that she was, in fact, the leader the prophecy spoke of. It was her.

It seemed the church was the last place to freeze, and turning around she could see that the lords and ladies had frozen in place as they’d followed her outside. Everything around Belle was sparkling and solid ice. Gripping the cold fountain, Belle fell to her knees. “I’m sorry--” she whimpered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

\----

He hadn’t made it in time. When Rumplestiltskin had used the magic mirror and watched as Maurice told his daughter that he’d refused to come to the wedding, he’d known he’d been lied to. Maurice had told him Belle requested to cancel their last lesson, and that she had taken back her invitation, and Rumplestiltskin should have known it was a lie. Belle was kind and gentle, a woman of her word. But in his own self loathing, the spinner had believed the lie and returned home with the beautifully bound book he’d gotten her from another world as a wedding gift. The look in her eyes had told him everything he needed to know. She was broken.

He’d rushed as quickly as he could to Avonlea, only to find the whole kingdom frozen. And in the middle of the town square was Belle.

“Oh-- Belle..” Rumplestiltskin moved to her side. The bright and blithe young princess had frozen with her face in her hands, kneeling on the ground by the fountain. “I’m so sorry.” Rumplestiltskin felt tears sting his eyes as sorrow filled him. “I should have been there for you. I’m sorry I failed you.” 

Kneeling in front of her, he lowered his lips to brush gently along the chilled ice of her hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most.” But it wouldn’t happen again. Never again. One hundred years was a long time, but Rumplestiltskin would be damned if she would go through it alone.

Though he would have liked to visit her as often as he could, he had other things to see to. He still needed to do work on his plan to find his son, and he was certain that Belle would understand. Still, every year, he reserved one day to spend entirely with her. He read her books from far away lands, told her of his son and of his plans, and filled her in on the changes the world had gone through in the year that had passed. He wasn’t sure if she could hear him, but he desperately hoped she could. Before he left, he would leave her a rose and a promise to visit her again. 

Every year for a hundred years he did this, in hopes that he could even just start to make up for the way he’d disappointed her. 

\----

One hundred years. That’s what the prophecy said. And one hundred years had passed.

Rumplestiltskin returned to Avonlea with a rose in hand. When he saw her there, still frozen, he sighed. He knelt and placed the rose beside her, kissing her hair. He began to read to her as he always did, but his heart wasn’t in it. He stopped before he was even half way through and stared at her. “Belle-- sweet Belle.” He didn’t know what to do. It was her powers that kept them frozen, and he didn’t have a clue as to how to get past them. “It’s been one hundred years, sweetheart. It’s time to wake up.” His clawed hands caressed an icy arm affectionately, his amber eyes sad. “Please...” His voice broke as he tried to keep from shedding tears.

“You have to come back to me,” he swallowed hard. “Come back to me darling, please. I--I love you.” It was something he’d admitted to himself the day that Avonlea froze, and still he’d never once voiced these feelings. Closing his eyes, Rumplestiltskin leaned his head against hers. There he stayed for long moments, willing her to hear him and return.

“Rumple?” He’d not noticed the air warming, and the beautiful dulcet tones of the Princess startled him.

“Belle?” He could hardly believe it was really her. She’d thawed and the ground around her was slowly beginning to thaw as well. “Belle y--you’re--” His words caught in his throat, and he grew silent as she hugged him with such ferocity he almost tipped over before catching her, arms wrapping around her middle.

Belle hugged him tightly for a long moment before she leaned back enough to look at him, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I love you, too,” she said tenderly, leaning in to press her lips soundly against his.

Rumplestiltskin didn’t do anything at first, shocked by her words. But as they sunk in and the realization that she was kissing him hit him, Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes and pulled her closer. He kissed her back as if she would disappear at any moment. Neither of them were aware, or even cared, that the town around them was unfreezing.

Rumplestiltskin knew right then and there what price he would demand from her father.


End file.
